


The Midsummer Dance

by BlackBeeNo3569



Category: Guardians of Childhood - William Joyce, Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-12 11:00:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19945066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackBeeNo3569/pseuds/BlackBeeNo3569
Summary: A calm, yet extraordinary  night, where the Bogeyman and the Apiarist are both allowed to forget their duties and all the problems to be solved for a short while.An extra  short story for The Apiarist comics - RotG fanfic.





	The Midsummer Dance

The forest was dark and quiet. A warm, dry breeze kept blowing among the trees and Hazel thought it’s that kind of a summer night that invites for some peaceful adventure. They were walking up the hill, small path threading through the woods. Pitch didn’t tell her what they are going to see or do today, but from his smirk when he told her she could guess she should be looking forward to it. After all, this was a Midsummer Night. In these lands they dedicated it to Saint John the Baptist, but to the creatures hidden in the woods this was of a very little importance. This was the night to celebrate the journey of the sun at it’s peak. A borderline to the second half of the year where there will be more and more of the night’s darkness. 

And the darkness under the branches started to be lit by small dots of trembling light. 

‘’Look, we are here,’’ Pitch said quietly and stopped to wait for her. In front of them was a glade, big just enough to let a little of moonlight to touch the grass and moss on the ground. All around the clearing, in the black shadows, there were blinking spots of white light, small and ephemeral, floating in the air. Almost like fireflies – but not exactly.

‘’What are we looking at?’’ Hazel whispered as she stood next to her friend. She had a strange, tickling feeling like she shouldn’t be here and at the same time this was the most appropriate place to be tonight. The double nature of mine again, she thought briefly. Her human mind knew she doesn’t belong here, but her spiritual nature said otherwise. This night the forest belonged to spirits and spirits only. The shadows were about to get deeper for the days to come and this was the moment to welcome the darkness and be thankful to the light. But much more time will pass till Hazel’s two parts will blend into one core. It’s hard to teach the mind to become a new person. So she touched bogeyman’s hand, if nothing else, then to remember herself the current state of things. 

‘’It’s the real Midsummer Dance,’’ Pitch answered her, ‘’all around us, there are will-o'-the-wisps, the lights in the dark.’’ He could feel a slight quiver of fear in her but learnt a long time ago to associate that with her steps deeper and deeper into the spirits’ world. A human in her felt fear, a spirit in her felt like coming home… Much to his own surprise being her guide on this journey made him actually really happy. Which was one of the reasons why he took her here tonight. The second one would be that he enjoyed the Midsummer Dance himself. It was a very, very old tradition, something the spirits started to do at the beginning of time, teaching the people the meaning of this season. And Pitch remembered how many of them used to be here, hidden in the shadows when the wandering lights started to dance – and many times joining the dance, just for the pure joy of the celebration… Well, that’s how things used to be in the old days, the old days before… But now Pitch didn’t want to think about that. He looked aside on Hazel, her face softly lit by the will-o'-the-wisps’ light as they flew to the clearing, and reminded himself to stay in the present moment. After all, that’s why they came here anyway.

The lights were floating and chasing each other over the glade, which was suddenly filled with flickering glow. And slowly, their flight got a certain rhythm and pace, changed into a real dance. Everything was silent, except for the breeze in the treetops. And will-o'-the-wisps danced a strange, playful dance in the air, sparkling in the moonlight beams and glowing in the ponds of thick darkness. 

‘’It’s beautiful,’’ Hazel hold her breath when they came closer, a row of softly shining balls spinning around. A very old tale came to her mind – here, in the old times, these lights were sometimes said to be souls of little children, who died sooner before they could be christened… And something in their softness, in their playful nature, agreed with that idea, maybe just for this one, extraordinary night. And the very shade of this idea was sad and poignant and still, beautiful. It took her old wounds, exposed them – and let them cool down in the soothing night air.

‘’If you’ll listen well, you’ll hear the music, too,’’ Pitch said. The music was still very quiet but if you knew what to hear, you could already find it in the murmur of the wind. And when Hazel tried that, she realized she can hear it, too. The longer she listened, the louder music became. Soon it filled the forest with a swaying melody.

And the lights swayed with it and then, they discovered the two observers below the trees, made a circle around them and never lost the rhythm of the song, not for a moment. 

‘’They are happy to see us,’’ Hazel realized with surprise in her voice. 

‘’Would you like to join them?’’ Pitch asked her but it was more of a rhetorical question, he could guess her answer right away.

‘’I would never be able-‘’

Pitch laughed and grabbed her hand: ‘’Of course you would be!’’

And before she knew, they were there, the will-o'-the-wisps flying all around them. And then, they danced. The music of the forest filled her ears and her head and slowly her all being. They were dancing with it and probably wouldn’t be able to stop even if they wanted.

The dance reminded her of waltz, as they were spinning over the moss and fern. She would be lost at it but Pitch seemed to know the steps exactly how they are supposed to be and led her safely through the glade. 

And the music got swifter. Cheerful and fast, now the dance resembled more of polka or some other folk dance and Hazel felt like the whole world is twirling with them. More then steps the music made the to leap again and again, and the lighting balls kept the pace with them, taking the dance to the treetops here and to the forest shadows there… And just like the lights, even them didn’t always touch the ground, as if the dance was now too fast for that. The dance was like a living creature itself, took them and swirled with them according to its will. It came to Hazel’s mind that she doesn’t have almost any control over it and that she didn’t care. She just left all the responsibility to Pitch and relied on him that he’ll lead them both through it. And he really did hold her firmly and when Hazel found time to look up, she was looking in his eyes. And that was the first and only time they tripped over the ground.

Once they both found the balance again, they laughed. Who cares, no one said the dance needs to be perfect. In no time they slid back to the melody, smiling and somehow feeling closer to each other than before. They’ve left all the problems, all the darkness and solitude of the Lair, all their duties and needs somewhere far behind. There was nothing else but this moment, this leap in the warm night air, this spin among the deep green fern leaves. Nothing but eyes glowing with laughter or arms to hold you, so you wouldn’t get lost in the darkness.

Spinning faster and faster, the night started to disappear from the small clearing. First the darkness got more blue and green tones, then the shadows got smaller and smaller like a water running away from a basket. And with them also the will-o'-the-wisps got faint and then they got lost in the weak light of the early dawn. But Pitch and Hazel had to dance till the very end, because now the celebration needed to be finished. Now their heels stamped swift rhythm on the crisp grass as the forest music got softer and softer. But they had to welcome the sun. It was a rule old as the world, a celebrated night must welcome the light as it fades away, changing into a new day.

Finally, it a was a break of day.

The fires in the country down there died out long time ago, people slept or were mostly too drunk to even notice. But the sun came out that day like a wildfire, rising up over the valley and hills, spreading golden light over the morning land.

Up there in the hills, two beings were watching the sunrise, panting and trembling and tired. They were alone and today, the sun rose just for them.


End file.
